Splatter Paint
by for-the-love-of-adonis
Summary: "God, what I wouldn't give to meet him. To just freakin' occupy the same room as him or breathe the same air as—" Okay. So Roxas is a little obsessed with a certain unknown, faceless graffiti artist with the tag name Axel. All he wants to do is just, y'know, find him. Ask him a few questions. Maybe make out a little. What could go wrong? Right? Wrong.


**Warning:** Language. Probably more big bad things in later chapters. Who knows.

 **Disclaimer** : I did not birth these characters. Nope.

 **A/N:** An idea for a story that I had also many moons ago. This very short chapter has been sitting on my computer in almost this exact state. Let me know if you're at all interested in it? I'm pretty terrified to write it, honestly, because I'm not that terribly knowledgeable on the subject. Oh well! Crucify me if it doesn't go well. I can take it. (And yes. An update to Pedestrian is coming. You've been forewarned.)

* * *

 **VIII**

"Shit," he hissed, stealing a glance behind him. The noise echoed raucously in his eardrums, the sound of his heartbeat quick to rival it in intensity. He righted the bucket from its side, cursing his lanky limbs and their lack of coordination.

Biting his lip, he pulled the drawstrings of his hoodie tighter—two nervous habits he'd picked up over the past year of doing this. He refocused, using the battered broom in frenzied-looking but deliberate motions. He'd broken the end of the broom two nights ago when he attempted to use it to help stabilize his jump (more like _fall_ ) from a second story window he'd been perched on. At least his gangly limbs made up for the difference, he mused, flattening the top of the paper against the relenting wall. He made quick work of covering the whole thing in a layer of the wheat-paste that was _actually still in his bucket_.

He stepped back, surveying his work for all of about 5 seconds before—

"Hey! Get the hell down from there!"

That was another thing these long-ass legs were good for. Running.

* * *

 **XIII**

"Come _on._ You don't seriously think—"

"I do, actually. There's _got_ to be some way to track him down."

"What makes you so sure it's a _him_ anyway _?_ Or even one person, for that matter. Maybe it's some big graffiti syndicate operating under one name or—"

"His name is _Axel_ , of course he's a guy. And who the fuck has ever heard of a _graffiti syndicate_?"

"I don't know!" She held up her hands defensively. " _Excuse_ me. You're the resident expert, here. And when I say expert, I mean stalker."

Roxas laughed. "Xion!"

She rolled her eyes, a matching grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I'm being serious," he whined. "Look at this!"

He scooted closer to her, leaning over her shoulder as he shoved his phone in her unsuspecting face.

"Hey, wha—" Xion started to protest, but Roxas remained relentless in both invading her personal space and interrupting her for the umpteenth time.

"See, look at this one. It's like a giant ninja star with flames. And this one! It's senator Xemnas's face but it's got 'Got It Memorized' written over his eyes. Ooh! That one's one of my favorites. He does a lot of those. It's this creepy shadowy creature with yellow eyes."

Xion's eyes passed over each successive photo impassively as Roxas thumbed through them, rambling on, until one suddenly piqued her interest. "Hey, what's that one?"

"Oh, I forgot about that one. It's a boy wielding a giant key. Maybe it's like the key to the universe or your dreams or something. Don't you get it, though? If I met him, I could ask him all these questions! I bet he's really poetic, Xion. Plus he's a rebel and that makes him totally hot."

Xion rolled her eyes. Roxas flipped back to the front of his camera roll to the new piece he'd seen on his way to school yesterday morning, plastered straight on the walls of the abandoned old mansion across from the school. His eyes pored over it, memorizing the image, taking in the crisp lines and curvatures. It was the image of a boy, but behind him was a giant, monstrous shadowy creature. He touched it lightly as if he could feel it through the screen, something inside of him responding in a way he couldn't quite explain.

"Seriously, Xion, if that's not art, I don't know what is." He moved away, flopping on his back and cuddling the phone close to his face, letting out a dreamy sigh. " _God_ , what I wouldn't give to _meet_ him. To just fucking occupy the same room as him or breathe the same air as—"

"Roxas, Jesus. Can't you find some nice boy at our school to date? You know…like…uh. Well, um. There's this really cute boy in my chemistry class?"

"Really cute…and gay?"

"Oh, right. No. Hey—maybe _I'll_ take that really cute boy in chem, then."

It was Roxas's turn to roll his eyes. "Thanks, Xion. You really know how to help a guy out."

* * *

"You've got to help me out."

* * *

 **A/N:** To be continued. The last line will start the next chapter. Ooh, I wonder who needs help. And from who? Hmm. Asking the real questions here.


End file.
